When the Lights Went Low
by Medusae Aequorea victoria
Summary: A short sequel to 'I'll be Your Soldier'. Sherlock writes his thoughts and feelings after reading John's journal entry.


This short piece is a sequel to John's "I'll be Your Soldier".

I'm proud of you John! Excellent deduction! But your hand! This is my fault. I knew something like this might happen. I am sorry. You are right, I would never have jumped the way I did if I could have saved you any other way.

I wish I could be there now to hold and heal your hand; to hold and heal _you_, John. I would make sure that you never hurt like this again. One day soon I will be there, John. I promise you.

But I must think of something for now. Perhaps Lestrade. I will get a message to him. He can help you in a way that I cannot at this moment. In the meantime, I've taken the letter-knife, all the sharp knives, in fact, out of the flat.

It's going to be okay, John. I will look after you. Always.

John, I love you. Beyond all logic and reason; I love you. And I am humbled that you feel the way you do about me and by your courage and loyalty. You will always be my soldier.

Having said that, you are going to make things extremely difficult for us if you go ahead with this plan to track down Moriarty. Can you not be less courageous and loyal, just this once? But of course you cannot.

Please stop blaming yourself for what happened. I _am_ an annoying dick, remember? That fact has not changed I'm afraid. And I did frequently provide you with demonstrations of my heartlessness and carelessness; you can hardly be blamed for expressing your concern about it. We both know you did so only in my best interests.

The building of my character has been very slow. As you quite correctly guessed there have been many times when I wondered if I _was _on the side of the devil, as some people have surmised. Surprising how it was looking into Moriarty's black eyes that made me realize with absolute certainly that I am not: he realized it at the same moment, although he wished it to be otherwise. The devil knows his own I suppose (That cover is now blown for me).

I knew you would figure at least this much out, sooner rather than later. Love, John; the heart always illuminates the truth; one just needs the courage to look at it and you are the bravest man I know.

But how could you imagine for one moment that I didn't think you trusted me? Don't be a complete idiot, John. After all we've been through together? Of course you trust me. Just as I trust you. You knew I would never hurt you willingly and would certainly never leave you willingly. Trust and love John; with these two forces of the universe binding us together we will never misunderstand one other for long.

And it goes without saying that I know you love me. I might be a complete idiot in many ways but not that. How could I possibly not recognize love when it is so starkly different from anything I have encountered before in my life? You forget I always rely on the evidence of my senses John, and your gentle presence positively lights up every one of my senses, including one or two I didn't know I had.

I'm acutely aware of all your emotions, John. I have made careful observations of them, working doggedly and shamelessly for the last year-and-a-half to ensure that it's me you love and no one else (You see? I truly am selfish and arrogant, so you may ease your conscience on that point).

What does amaze me is that you appear to have discovered that I love you too. I've wanted to communicate this to you but I feared how such an announcement might affect our friendship, and yet here you have known it all along. Remarkable. And a something of a relief, I admit.

However John, on that note, be prepared because having been robbed of the opportunity to surprise you with a declaration of love, I am now working on a marriage proposal for you. I have some spare time on my hands while I'm waiting for other things to transpire so my plans are progressing nicely. It would be helpful to know what metal you would like our rings to be. Atomic numbers 79, 78 and 47 of the periodic table are usual but give it some thought.

(You might like a combination of metals, an alloy, like we are. Or platinum with rhodium flashing perhaps, so when you look at your hand you will always be reminded that of the two of us, like rhodium, you are the most precious. I like all the elements John, so you choose.)

I am aware that your thoughts may not have advanced as far as mine in terms of a long-term domestic commitment. However, everything my senses are telling me suggests that you will warm to the idea sooner rather than later.

Now. What to do about this latest development? I know you too well to imagine that you can be easily dissuaded from going after Moriarty. I wish I could be certain the madman is actually dead. That would make things a bit easier.

But since I'm not sure that he is dead, he is well known for faking deaths, I must turn my mind to finding a comprehensive solution that prevents all possible scenarios; especially the one where you risk your life to blow his head off (as pleasurable as it is to imagine him meeting his demise in the described manner, it is an unnecessary risk and far too dangerous so I will prevent you from going ahead with it).

You need a distraction, something compelling enough that it will prevent you from embarking on this, at least until I have had time to organize the placement of some road blocks between you and Moriarty's organisation. I will come up with something.

John, reading of your feelings makes me ache more unbearably than ever to come home. I can never go back to the way my life was before you came into it. Being separated from you is hell.

(But I have a confession to make: I know you love me John, but I am afraid you will tire of my faults over time. I will do everything in my power to make sure that you keep on loving me but it may not be enough. Too much time has passed in my life, too much time wasted, ignoring love and all that it requires to thrive. I will need you to show me what you need and to tell me what will make you happy, John, as I am not sure I can do it on my own.)


End file.
